


Pathways to Love

by Beth51276



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Post Episode: s01e08 Father's Day, Post-Episode: s01e06 Dalek, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-05-19 08:40:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5961096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beth51276/pseuds/Beth51276
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of one shots, between Nine and Rose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_"No, no. You stick with the Doctor. You'd rather be with him. It's gonna take a better man than me to get between you two."- The Long Game_

After an astounding four hours of sleep, the Doctor laid there and watched Rose sleep. It was the best and longest sleep he had had since before the war, and having been unplagued by nightmares, he felt positively jovial.

She looked so impossibly young and beautiful, and it was hard for him to believe she wanted to comfort him in such a way. But she had gazed at him openly, opening her arms to him, willing to offer anything he asked of her. He would be lying if he said he didn't want more.

It wasn't something he had ever done with a companion, a line he had stalwartly refused to cross. But this beautiful girl next to him had already done for him more than any companion ever had. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do about his wanting, but in the meantime, he planned to show her his favorite places, the most fantastically beautiful things the universe had to offer. She was the only person he wanted to share that with. There was just one problem. It was no longer just the two of them.

That oily pretty boy they had picked up in Van Statten's museum had come along, at Rose's request. He already had him pegged as a sniveling fool with a sense of intellectual superiority. He found him wanting and not merely because it was obvious that he found Rose attractive. He could fix that, though. With Utah behind him and a decent rest finally a blessed gift, he was thinking more clearly than ever.

There was no way that the likes of Adam Mitchell was cut out for the life he led. Rose was his equal. The things he lacked, she more than made up for.

The ears of the young man in question must have been burning, because the TARDIS alerted him of Adam's presence in the corridor just outside of Rose's bedroom. And here he was, lying next to his companion in a dark grey t-shirt and black pajama bottoms. The Doctor grinned wickedly as he heard the soft knocking and whisper outside the door.

"Rose?"

It wasn't as though he could really be held responsible for any interpretations that the pretty boy made, could he?

The Doctor slowly made his way out of the bed, so as not to disturb his sleeping companion. His manic grin turned into a genuine smile as he saw the young man's expression when he opened the door.

"Doctor," stated Adam in surprise.

"Yes?" he answered softly.

"Oh, I thought this was Rose's room."

"Yes, it is. I had just woke up when you came to the door. Anything you need?" This was fantastic, seeing the wrong-footed expression on Adam's face.

"Just having a hard time sleeping, strange place and all. Plus, there's this constant hum."

"Ah, that's the TARDIS. Rose finds it soothing, which means she's still asleep. Don't want to disturb her until she's had a good 7 or 8 hours. Tell you what, we'll meet up in the console room after Rose is rested up, and see where the TARDIS will take us next. Back to bed with you." The Doctor's grin was at its friendliest when he quietly shut the door in Adam's face.

Rose stirred when the Doctor joined her back in the bed.

"What was that about?" she murmured sleepily.

"Pretty boy already seeking you out in the middle of the night."

"Don't remember telling him where my room was. When I tried talking to him about the TARDIS and time travel, he still wanted to natter on about all of his accomplishments. So I went to bed."

"Shhh," he soothed. "You need a bit more rest after yesterday. Then we'll go somewhere fantastic and I'll help you take the boy genius down a peg." He stroked her hair as she settled back into sleep.

The Doctor refused to feel guilty. If Rose didn't tell him where her room was, that could only mean the TARDIS let him find it, knowing Adam would find him there. With any luck, Adam would realize he was out of his element and it would just be the two of them once again.

Good.


	2. An Anguished Love

~~~~

If anyone could have seen him there on that street corner in 1987, they would have been disarmed by one face wearing an expression that ran an entire gamut of emotions. Exhaustion, understanding, forgiveness, but most of all, an anguished love that he was finding harder to contain.

He felt all of his ancient possessive instincts come to the fore during his row with Rose in her parents' flat. He was hurt, for at first his mind grasped at the most devious of inferences- that she had come with him with this as her ultimate goal. Both of them flung harsh words at each other, but he had run out on her. It wasn't arrogance on her part that made her know he really wouldn't leave her. It was trust, the same trust she had gifted him with in Cardiff, crying his name as Redpath's animated corpse advanced on her. She had no idea he was already there, rushing to rescue her. She just knew and trusted he would always come for her. That same trust she had in her eyes at Downing Street, when she told him to do what he needed to do.

She trusted him, the renegade Time Lord, the Oncoming Storm, the bringer of destruction, who committed genocide against his own people. He had failed her. There were things he could have done. He could have warned her in advance about the consequences of preventing her father's death, but he didn't. He could have taken her in his arms and held her close as the car approached. He should have done, because even his alien brain knew she needed the comfort and strength to see it through.

In the end, he watched his Rose kneel in the street, kissing her father's forehead after he drew his last breath. Would her mother ever know how brave Rose was for doing such a thing? She stood up and looked at him, eyes red with tears, full of sorrow and grief. She wanted his forgiveness. He couldn't have her thinking that she still needed it. He had his own culpability in today's events.

He knew her, understood her down to her very bones. Rose had grown up believing she was nothing special. Jackie loved her, of course. But it was obvious to him from the beginning that Rose's mother wanted to keep her close. That meant a nice, safe marriage to someone like Rickey, and living the rest of her life on the estate. Peter Tyler, on the other hand, recognized something in his brilliant girl. He had seen what the Doctor had seen in the basement of Henrik's. In his jealousy and anger, he hadn't been able to see what Rose needed- validation from her father, because Jackie couldn't do it. Jackie was loving. Jackie was nurturing and protective. She had done the best she could as a widowed single mother with limited means, and had raised a fantastic young woman.

As his ageless blue eyes gazed at Rose, he knew he couldn't have her believing he was still angry with her. So he extended his hand towards her, and she took it gratefully, as they headed back into the TARDIS. She was almost sleepwalking as he guided her inside. He quickly took them into the vortex, all too eager to leave this place of anguish. The Doctor clasped her hand gently, beckoning her towards the galley. The Time Lord who didn't do domestic made her some tea, placing her favorite biscuits on a plate. Both of them sat in silence until they were finished. It was the Doctor who finally broke the silence.

"I want you to get some rest, Rose. We both could use it after...today."

That little spark that had captivated him from the moment they met was absent as her eyes met his, looking a bit like a startled animal. Almost as if she was frightened to challenge him, she replied, "Alright."

He stared down the corridor after her as she shuffled towards her bedroom. She needed him, the same way he needed her after Utah. But his emotions were running rampant, and hormones he had thought he had better control over were coursing through his system. He didn't like to ponder what that meant- it was the ancient response of a Gallifreyan male when his relationship with his bonded mate or betrothed was threatened. He was too tired to level them out himself, and the urge to claim her had never been stronger.

He felt like a fool, fighting with her over her father, of all people. He wasn't bonded to Rose, and it was utter madness that the difficult events of the day could provoke an almost biological imperative. Sometimes he thought she was attracted to him, in spite of his ears and his daft face. But it had to be more than just attraction on her part for him to cross the line with Rose. He'd never forsake the friendship they had just to scratch an itch. The only thing that could induce him would be the deepest of love. In the privacy of his own mind, he could admit that he was nearly at that point on his end. But Rose? He didn't know if she loved him back. Bonding would only work if she did, and it had to be more than just typical human serial monogamy.

So he found himself in the infirmary, driven to measures he had never had to do with a companion. He found the vial he was looking for, and prepared a syringe, injecting himself with a hormonal suppressant. He could come to Rose's bed without worrying about his desire for her overwhelming her need for comfort. For that's what she needed from him now, comfort, and not being ravished by a mad, possessive old man.

He quickly showered and shaved, and slipped on a pair of black pajama bottoms. For the first time, he eschewed the t-shirt. He was too selfish. He needed comfort, too, and craved the idea of Rose sleeping with her head on his bare chest. When he approached Rose's bedroom, he realized she was still in the en suite, drying her hair after her shower. As another first, he slipped beneath the covers, having rested atop them previously. But he loved this girl, needed to reassure her that he still thought she was fantastic, and this was the only way he could do so right now. He propped himself on pillows, sitting upright against the headboard, as he waited for Rose to finish up.

Rose flipped off the light and emerged from the en suite. She was startled to see the Doctor already there, waiting for her. Underneath the covers, no less. He flipped back the blanket on her side of the bed, and held his arms out to her. It was all she could do not to leap on him as she scrambled onto the bed, and flung her arms around his neck with a sob. She buried her head in his neck, crying even harder, as the Doctor drew the blankets back over them.

"Oh Doctor," she choked, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it when I said-"

"Shhh," he soothed. "We both said things we didn't mean. No more apologies."

"I thought you might not want me anymore, might want to take me home."

He tilted her face up, and looked at her with all of the love he could project. "I'll always take you back home, Rose, because this is your home. For as long as you can stand living with this grumpy old Time Lord. I never want you to go, Rose Tyler." He kissed her forehead and cheeks, smoothing her hair out of her face.

"I never want to go back. I told you I wasn't going anywhere, and I meant it."

He finally let her cry it all out, whispering soothing nonsense as he stroked her hair, holding her close until she finally fell into a deep sleep. Content with holding her, having been able to soothe her into a proper rest, his own eyes started to close. He was almost asleep when Rose stirred in his arms. Though she didn't wake, he was stunned by what she did.

She kissed him on his chest, barely more than a brush of the lips, between his two hearts that he was now quite certain belonged to Rose Tyler. If it hadn't been for his superior hearing, he might not have heard the whispered claim, the soft murmur against his chest.

"My Doctor."

She was right. He was hers, and would be until the last breath in his last body. He smiled to himself as joyful realization coursed through his veins. Rose needed validation from her father, and having the same affirmation from him simply wasn't the same thing. She didn't see him as a father figure.

Fantastic.


End file.
